Life Within the LIONS' DEN

A GRADUATE of Stanford University, where he starred on the football team, Tommy Vardell was a running back in the NFL for seven years with the Cleveland Browns, Detroit Lions, and San Fransisco 49ers. Rick Lipsey, a reporter at Sports Illustrated, spoke with Vardell about the spiritual approach he brought to the gridiron.

Rick Lipsey: How long have you used prayer in sports?

Tommy Vardell: I've tried to lean on God since I was a little boy. I can remember singing hymns to myself and praying while pitching in Little League and throughout my Pop Warner football years. It would help calm "butterflies" before games. It helped me to feel God's presence on the field.

RL: As you grew up was there a particular time when you realized that prayer made a significant difference in your performance?

TV: Yes. I had an experience in high school that was a turning point in my entire study of Christian Science.

It was my junior year in high school, and we were playing our crosstown rival for what was essentially the league championship. I had been playing pretty well during the season, and I was doing fine in school, but I wasn't totally happy with myself. I had been battling a feeling of self-consciousness, and was searching for something to give me the happiness and security I was after.

One night during that week a hymn came to thought: "Only God can bring us gladness,/ Only God can give us peace" (Christian Science Hymnal, No. 263 ). These words showed me clearly that the only way to happiness was through God. I could walk in a hundred different directions, but the only way I was going to be happy was to walk toward God.

By the time the game rolled around I had a strongly held peace and gratitude and dominion. When I bent down to stretch before the game, my body was already stretched—it had responded to an elevated state of thought. That night I did things on the field I had never done before—spinning and jumping and cutting in ways I had never dreamed of. I ended up with 214 yards rushing and 4 touchdowns. The team won, and I had discovered a link between thought and action that led to a serious study of metaphysics.

RL: How did your study progress from there?

TV: At first I kept trying to duplicate my state of thought from that game, but I learned quickly that that is not how things work with God. I've learned that God gives us fresh inspiration for our particular need at a given moment. I learned that I couldn't manipulate my consciousness to affect a desired outcome.

RL: Do you pray to win?

TV: No, I don't. I pray to see God's complete fruition for us—on both sides of the ball. I think that, as God's man, everyone has a right to play to his potential, to express the attributes, skill, and character that he is intended to express.

RL: Where did that idea come from?

TV: My first few years in the NFL were pretty tough. I had bits and pieces of success, but successful play seemed to be interrupted by injury, pressures, or circumstances that seemed beyond my control. I think I had bought into the mentality that success was circumstantial—that it had to do with being in the right system, with the right coaches, in the right city, and so forth. Later, I remember dealing with a training camp injury that was keeping me off the field, and I thought, "This is ridiculous ... God created man, and He made him fruitful." I remembered a line in Science and Health, stating, "... divine Love cannot be deprived of its manifestation, or object" (p. 304 ).

Throughout the year I insisted on the completion and fruition of God's idea and work. It turned out to be my best season.

RL: How much of an asset is physical prowess?

TV: Football is not the physical game it appears to be. Every action on the football field first begins in thought. You have to think before you can act. A receiver, for example, has to concentrate to place his hands correctly to catch a football. That is totally independent of the physical size, shape, or strength of the hand. This same idea holds true for every position. Football is actually a very mental game. In my opinion, the difference between a Super Bowl champion and a last-place team in the pros is purely mental. This makes turning to God, the divine Mind, as the source of our thinking, of highest importance.

RL: Are love and football compatible?

TV: Absolutely. I don't see games as "us versus them"—two sides competing for one good. To me, a game is one unfoldment of God made manifest in all areas of the field. I think about the Bible verse "There is neither Jew nor Greek, ... for ye are all one in Christ Jesus" (Gal. 3:28 )—or, "There is neither Lion nor Packer, all are one in Christ Jesus."

It's amazing how this type of thinking can turn a hostile environment into a loving, respectful one. I've seen a number of times how love and humility disarm anger. I've seen cheap shots at the beginning of a game turn into pats on the back at the end.

RL: Were you treated differently by coaches or trainers because of your religious convictions?

TV: My religious convictions actually unified us more than separated us. We all believe in God and in the transforming power of Christ. I had a trainer tell me once that they treat injury, but God heals.

One time I hurt my neck. It was difficult to play without feeling pain. I did a lot of praying about what I was actually doing when I blocked other players. I could see that even though it appeared that I was smashing into people, I was actually demonstrating the form, intelligence, balance, strength, and power of God's action. I could be calm "amid the jarring testimony of the material senses" (Science and Health, p. 306 ).

The pain persisted up to game time, but by then I had conquered fear. After the first hit in the game, I knew that I was free.